


An Easy Tell

by plentyofmalk



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 21:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7190777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plentyofmalk/pseuds/plentyofmalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, much to her disappointment, there’s no grand reveal. No secret rendezvous, caught-in-the-middle-of-something-nefarious that makes glorious blackmail material to show at their wedding. No dramatic exclamations made after returning from some mission, windswept by drama and heedless about the world around them. Not even a private aside after a morning meeting to gush about it because they <i>had to tell <b>someone</b></i>. And honestly, her not getting the gossip? The truest of betrayals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Easy Tell

In the end, much to her disappointment, there’s no grand reveal. No secret rendezvous, caught-in-the-middle-of-something-nefarious that makes glorious blackmail material to show at their wedding. No dramatic exclamations made after returning from some mission, windswept by drama and heedless about the world around them. Not even a private aside after a morning meeting to gush about it because they _had to tell **someone**_. And honestly, her not getting the gossip? The truest of betrayals.  


No. In the end, there is one simple tell: two mugs of tea being made at an ungodly hour of the night. Or...morning? (In a base with approximately one window, it was hard to tell sometimes.)

Regardless, that’s how she found Fitz. Alone at a _very vague_  hour, preparing two mugs of freshly brewed tea looking very disheveled.

She watched him from a distance. She’d had trouble getting back to a regular sleeping pattern since being in Hive’s company. _No rest for the wicked_ , she thought bitterly. Sometimes, when her room became a little too cramped to fit the memories running loose in her brain, she would wander the halls of the base. But now those memories are a distant...well.. _memory_ , because she’s got a far better program to tune into right now.

“Hey.” She called to him, finally alerting him to her presence. He jumped enough to leave a splash of hot liquid on the counter top, but otherwise kept his composure.

“Daisy. Hey. What are you, uh, doing here?”

She walked to the fridge, pulling out a water. “Oh, nothing. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d grab myself a--” She waved the bottle in her hand. “You thirsty, Fitz?”

He looked down at the counter, suddenly realizing how suspicious he must look. “Yeah, you know, thinking ahead. I didn’t want to get up for a second mug later on. Being proactive and all that.” He wiped down the counter before grabbing a mug in each hand. “Well, I’m gonna head back to my room, then.”

“I’ll walk with you!” She followed him out, relishing the brief flicker of panic in his eyes as he nodded.

They walked in casual silence until they reached his door, which was when things really became interesting, because instead of parting ways and going inside, he just stood and stared at the door knob. She used his occupied hands to her advantage to put him on the spot.

“Oh, do you need me to open the door for you? Here, let me--” She reached for the handle innocently, not breaking eye contact. He reacted so fast that they were both lucky the hot liquid he was carrying didn’t go flying.

“No!” Seriously, how was he allowed out in the field when his voice raised that many octaves under distress? 

“Okay, so,” she looked at the door, then back at him, “are you going in?”

She heard his gulp just as much as she saw the bob of his Adam’s apple as he scrambled to reply.

This was just too good.

“Of course! I thought I’d just stand here for a minute. You know, make sure you get back to your room. In fact, let’s go, I’ll walk you there--”

“Fitz?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you want to open the door in front of me?” She asked.

He huffed. “‘Don’t want to open’? Don’t be ridiculous, Daisy, I’m trying to be a good friend and-and accompany you to your quarters.” She let him continue on for a few more seconds of huffing and grumbling.

“Fitz.” She smiled at him, which, if anything, only made him more nervous.

“...Yes?”

“Do you not want to open the door because there’s someone in there? Maybe a certain brunette...”

“Oh, now…”

“...About yay high?” She raised her hand close to eye level. “British? Loves dissecting things almost as much as she loves--”

“That’s not…I think you’re mistaken...”

“Oh, _please_ , Fitz!” The door whipped open behind him and there, clad in a worn t-shirt several sizes too big for her was Simmons, looking particularly exasperated. “She clearly already knows. No need to go jabbering about.”

She knew it!

“Oh. My. God. I knew it!”

“Daisy, please!” Even as he pleaded for her to keep her voice down, looking like a very perplexed fish, he was able to pass off the second mug to Jemma. _His girlfriend_.

“I _knew_ it!”

“Daisy.” This time it was Jemma placating her.

“ _Oh my **God**_!”

“Yes, we’ve established that we’re all very excited, now if you could please--” She felt a little pity for Fitz that he thought he could slow her train of excitement.

“Sorry, sorry.” Her whisper was almost as loud as her speaking voice. “I’m just excited. This was one hundred percent not how I expected the last ten minutes of my life to go. Which is weird, don’t you think? What with being an agent with superpowers and facing alien threats and secret evil organizations and...Jemma, why are you hiding behind the door? Are you not wearing pants?! Oh my--”

“No!” Jemma exclaimed. She pulled the door open a little wider to prove that she was, in fact, wearing pajama bottoms. (Fitz’s pajama bottoms.) “I just don’t care to draw attention at this hour of the morning.”

“It’s morning!” Earlier curiosity settled. “Okay, that’s good to know. What time is it, exactly?”

Fitz looked at his watch with a grimace plastered on his features. “5:56.”

“Wow, more morning than I thought. Wait,” she looked at Fitz, “in what world are you up and functioning before 8AM?”

Jemma, for her part, had the decency to look ashamed when she admitted, “Fitz was just being accommodating by fetching us some tea. I’ve been an early riser recently.”

“Yeah.” Daisy replied, then jumped to another disgustingly curious thought. She leaned in toward her. “Is Fitz an early riser, too? You know, like,” she scratched at her shoulder in a way that left one finger aimed very pointedly at--

“I beg your pardon!” Fitz hissed at her.

She waved her hand at him. “You’re right, I’m sorry. This is a completely inappropriate conversation to have,” looking at him pointedly, she finished, “in front of you. But we,” she turned back to Jemma, who was very poorly hiding a snicker from Fitz behind her fingers, “are going to have a very good talk about this later. I want details. I’m talking end-the-conversation-feeling-thoroughly-disgusted, oh-God, I-didn’t-even-see-it-and-my-eyes-are-burning details, understood?”

Jemma rolled her eyes, but made no attempt to hide the mirth in them or her full-on grin any longer. “Yes, I will make sure to give a highly edited recount of recent events.”

Swinging the door open wide enough to push past, Fitz made his escape back into the confines of his room. “Gonna request a transfer.” He muttered under his breath, causing them both to laugh at his embarrassment. She watched Jemma’s gaze follow him until he was out of sight and couldn’t help but notice how happy she seemed. Realizing she couldn’t remember the last time she saw her friend so content, her teasing tone turned much more genuine.

“Seriously, Jemma, I’m so happy for you. Both of you.” She smiled. “You guys deserve this.”

“Thank you.” Jemma tucked her head down to look at the floor, a slight blush covering her cheeks.   _Adorable_. “What are you doing up, anyway? You should be resting.” Just like that, bossy Dr. Simmons made herself known. Daisy had learned over the years not to argue with her diagnoses, so she began backing away with her hands up in surrender.

“Just took a walk to get some water and clear my head, Dr. Simmons. Which failed spectacularly, so I promise I’m going back to my room now.”

“Daisy?”

“Yeah?”

“This is all very…” Jemma struggled to find the right phrasing. “We’d appreciate it if you could just keep this quiet from Lincoln and the like. Until things are a little more settled around here, at least.”

Daisy’s only response was to throw an exaggerated wink and an 'A-OK’ gesture in her direction. She stood in shock as she saw Fitz’s wrap his fingers around Jemma’s elbow, mumbling something she couldn’t quite hear but _knew_ must have been ooey and gooey and gross because the smile on her friend’s face when she closed the door was definitely not work appropriate.

Ew. But also, _ooh_!

She scurried back to her room, knowing there was no way she was going to be going back to sleep.

\--------------------

Jemma’s exact words were ‘ _keep this quiet from Lincoln and the like_.’ Daisy knew this because she had committed it to memory in case she ever had to defend her actions in a court of law. Not telling Lincoln was clearly off limits. ‘ _And the like_ ’ was clearly a matter of opinion and a grey area she couldn’t help but take advantage of.

And really, it’s their fault for being so frustratingly cute, standing on opposite sides of the room, slyly (for them) shooting heart eyes at one another while Coulson rattled off mission details. By the time orders had been given out and the team broke away to begin packing supplies on the quinjet, she’d pretty much had it.

Which is why, when she found Mack filling a duffel bag with equipment, she settled herself beside him and whispered, “I have a secret and I have to tell someone.”

Mack looked down at her, understandably alarmed. “Tremors? Something wrong?”

“No! No, nothing bad.” She was quick to squash his concern. “It’s just really really secret and you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone, okay? You cannot breathe a word about it to anyone or anything, got it?” There, she covered her bases _much_  better than Simmons.

“Of course.”

“Okay, good.” She looked around to make sure no one had snuck up when they were talking. “Fitz and Simmons are… Fitzsimmons.” She rubbed her palms together surreptitiously. “Like _Fitzsimmons_  Fitzsimmons.” He stared at her blankly and _seriously, how did he not get this?_ “Mack. I’m talking bibli-”

He cut her off. It was for the best, because she was about to start breaking out the inappropriate hand gestures.

“No, I get it, thanks.” Except he clearly didn’t get it if he was acting as calm as he was. Then he raised an eyebrow, stepping away to throw the duffle over his shoulder. “Who do you think re-stacked cargo on the jet for two hours while they were in a hotel room in Bucharest?”

...Wait.

_“WHAT?!”_  


**Author's Note:**

> Finally getting around to bringing some prompts from tumblr over to Ao3! Wanna be my friend? I'm plentyofmalk there, too :)


End file.
